


Drawing

by drawmelikeurotp



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: AU, M/M, OOC, the summary is awful i know i'll fix it later, what is thihs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drawmelikeurotp/pseuds/drawmelikeurotp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izaya Orihara was born with smarts that could get him through school in a mere three years. But he used it all on his drawing capabilities. Then came the day he met the one and only Shizuo Heiwajima, and he couldn't help but draw him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the World, Izaya.

“Shirou!” a shrill voice yelled. It was watery and cracked, which made the older man leap from his recliner to rush to his wife. It took a few seconds for him to find the door where the whimpers were coming from, and he quickly opened it.

It was there on the floor that he found Kyouko, balled up into a cover. Her hair was scattered around her face. At first he thought she was having hard times breathing, but realized that she held a small device that looked like a thermometer in her shaky hands. Without saying a word, she turned the device towards Shirou’s face.

He did not expect two tiny lines would make his entire body freeze.

::::

For five months, Kyouko had thought that her little child would be just like her. Silent, kept a front when things got bad, and most especially her looks. The young one wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t disobey.

Kyouko heard the patter of footsteps coming her way, and felt arms wrap around her slightly round waist. Kisses were placed lightly on her collarbone and she sighed.

“Shirou… what if-“

“No ifs, Kyouko.” He interrupted, moving his hand to her abdomen, “I’m sure our son will be wonderful just like you.”

“How do you know it will be a boy? We haven’t gotten any news yet!” Kyouko exclaimed, turning in her husband’s arms.

“’One can only dream’… isn’t that what you told me?”

When Kyouko looked the man in the eyes it felt like submerging into a pool of blood. His eyes were always the color of bright red, swirling with emotions that didn’t have a name. It gave off a murderous intent, like he was a killer; she knew he wasn’t. But this trait-this is what led her to love this man. He was always so mysterious and reserved, like a snake.

“How about we head off to bed, hm?”

“…yeah. Just-”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. Everything will be okay.”

“…”

Their child would be what every parent wanted.  

_Perfect._

::::

“Come on Mrs. Orihara! You’re almost there!”

Kyouko simply gulped and gasped and turned to look at the empty spot next to her. Shirou had to go outside because he couldn't stand the sight of blood. Which was weird since he married a woman who did just that every month and his eyes were the same color.

Irony was strong with this one. 

Now that Kyouko's head wasn't spinning, she looked around the room to find over two different doctors and three nurses holding her legs down. She apparently did not like the pain, even if they did give her medication before she went through labor. It was when a young girl with fiery red hair entered the room that she held her breath.

The young girl spoke, "Kyouko, right? I'm Dr. Matsuoka. You just need to follow my lead, okay? Breathe in slow, hold your breath for four seconds, and out slow. And then repeat. Got it?"

Kyouko did just that. 

Her breathing was labored, and harsh. It felt like she was breathing in through a straw-

Inside of a cave with hardly any oxygen. But she kept repeating the steps until a command was yelled. 

“One last push!” Dr. Matsuoka exclaimed.

After seconds of breathing in enough air she gave the last push all that she had left for energy.

Small whimpers filled the air and doctors stopped what they were doing. Kyouko couldn’t breathe, but that didn’t stop her from lifting her head from above the tips of her legs. Two steady arms that belonged to Dr. Matsuoka were reaching to her, holding a bundle covered in a blanket.

She was thrown back over nine months prior, sitting on the ground in a panic. She hadn’t known that it was going to take one time to get pregnant, but it did. And for some strange reason, her chest felt light about it.  

Now that she found herself holding and staring at the tiny brunette baby, she knew it was worth it.

One doctor gently grabbed her legs and turned them down, moving the cover over for privacy. Slowly, nurses and doctors filed out and for a few minutes everything was quiet. Kyouko sat in silence, not knowing what to do. She showed no smile, not even a laugh. As a matter of fact, she didn’t know what she was feeling.

“Kyouko?”

She directed her attention to the door. Her husband stood wide eyed, frozen in shock and wonder at the tiny individual in his wife’s arms.

“I-is that-”

“Yes.” She replied, her voice low. She had been screaming for a few hours now, and her voice wasn’t really working. She watched his legs shakily make way into the room, growing closer and closer with each passing second. His head fell over hers as they looked at the now sleeping face.

“Ha. Told you it would be a boy.” Shirou murmured into her hair, and he smiled. “What should we call him then?”

Kyouko gasped quietly. She really hadn’t thought of baby names for the months she was pregnant. In fact all she had been doing was studying up about babies!  

“Hey Kyouko…what about Izaya?” Shirou responded to her non-spoken answer. Kyouko aimed her eyes upward, letting out a breathless reply. “What?”

“Izaya. You know, close to the name Isaiah from the bible. It means ‘watches over the crowd’. He seems like he’d be the type. What do you think?”

She looked down at the small boy, and thought it over for a minute.

Izaya Orihara.

She loved it.

::::

It was when Izaya turned three that she found that her son was extremely intelligent.

She and Shirou had gotten into an argument about how his job always kept him busy. The same day Izaya was born, Shirou thought they needed more money to keep Izaya fed and healthy. Well he was indeed wrong, but Kyouko didn’t know how to bring it up. So she never did.

Kyouko trailed on awake at nights until around four in the morning when her husband would finally show up and give her a kiss on the temple, whispering “sorry I’m late again,” before falling to sleep.

This went on for around two and a half years, until he finally spoke up about it. And thus started the fight (thankfully Izaya was in the living room too busy messing with his toys to hear them.)

But a few hours had passed after the lover’s spat when Izaya talked, “I don’t really like you both yelling.” Kyouko took a few seconds to register her tiny son’s words before calling her husband into the room.

It took some coaxing for the man to walk down the hall, but stopped midway when his son’s eyes landed on him. He watched as his son’s eyes transitioned from a bright red to a dark crimson. “No more fighting. I don’t like seeing things like that.” said Izaya.

Both parents looked in shock. They would have expected Izaya to start crying or pitching a fit about it…not bringing it up like an adult would!

“Izaya baby…” Kyouko chuckled nervously, moving herself from the couch to the floor to rest on her knees. She brought her face close, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Stop fighting. It’s not good for kids to see.”

“Izaya…” Shirou started, walking down the rest of the hallway and bending down on his knees to get closer to his son, “Were you watching us?”

The raven-haired turned away, grabbing a toy and bouncing it on its tiny legs. “Just don’t anymore, okay?”

Kyouko and Shirou gave in and nodded.

They would not raise their son to be like they were.

::::

“Hi Izaya!” Kyouko shouted from her car window, rolling it up as her son came closer and walked to the back door.  “How was your first day at school?”

6 year old Izaya looked up after getting into the backseat and set a glare to the building he just left. “It was awful.”

Kyouko frowned. When she was in school, she always loved meeting her new classmates and the teacher, who would sometimes be old or  _really_  young. But with the intense look that Izaya gave towards the school, she could tell immediately that it wasn’t just classmates.

When they were out of the parking lot, she opened her mouth with an inhale. “So tell me what happened.” She stated.  Izaya opened his mouth and scoffed. “The teacher called me a name.”

Kyouko was tempted to slam on her brakes, but stopped herself from doing so. Instead she listened to the rest of her son’s rant.

“Mr. Togusa told me…well he called me something that I’m not allowed to say to you because I know you’d get mad. So in good words, he said that I was too smart and that I didn’t belong there. So he told me to leave. I told him no, and he sent me to sensei’s office.

I told him what I said to Mr. Togusa, and he told me the same thing, and threatened to call you about the problem. And all I did was make him mad…”

Kyouko took the seconds of silence to butt in, “What did you do?”

“When we first got into the room, he started going on about who he was. Then for some reason, people were getting up and saying good mornings and who they were, but… I don’t know. I didn’t want to stand up. So when it was my turn, I didn’t stand. He got mad and walked over to me.

He tried pulling me up, and I stayed sitting down. Then I said, ‘forcing someone isn’t going to make them like you, you know.’ And then he called me the name.”

Kyouko wanted to applaud at her son’s way of explaining, but also wanted to scold him for spatting at his teacher like that. However, she also wanted to write a long-worded letter about teachers putting their hands on other students—

“So to answer your question mom… no. I didn’t have a good day.”

She just kept her mouth shut. She thought at that moment that things would get better if she just didn’t do anything.

…..

..…

They never did.

::::

The young boy had never seen the day coming. Honestly he had forgotten. But as he opened his eyes and found a cake covered in what looked to be red velvet icing shoved into his face…

“Happy birthday, my sweet boy!”

Realization dawned on him. Today was his birthday. “Ugh, mom… stop calling me that.” He groaned, an arm rubbing against his eyes.

“But that’s what you are!” Kyouko squealed, reaching to give her son a one-armed hug. He rolled his eyes and hugged her back, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I know you’re a big man now, but I still believe you to be my tiny baby boy…”

“I’m 10, mom, not 25.” Izaya chuckled and sat up in his bed. “Thanks I guess.” He spoke, grabbing the plastic plate from her hand and instantly gobbling the sugary piece of food up. A few minutes passed, and Izaya took a look around his room. “Wher da a?” he asked, his cake shoved in his mouth. Kyouko giggled, and took her handkerchief to wipe Izaya’s face. “What did you say?” she questioned between giggles.

Izaya chewed the remains of the cake up and swallowed. “I asked where dad was.”

“Oh, he’s at work for today. Someone called him in.”

“Oh.” He went quiet. Kyouko seemed to notice the change right away, because the next she was holding her son in her arms, setting her head on his dark brown hair.

“You know he’ll be back.” She mumbled. She could hear Izaya mocking her, but kept silent.

“Yea…” he turned his head to the slightly ajar portrait of him and his mom and dad smiling.

“I know.”

::::

It had been two weeks after Izaya’s birthday when Kyouko realized that something was wrong.

Izaya had pointed out that his own mom looked to be eating a lot. When she weighed herself the next morning, it turned out that she had gained 13 pounds in just two weeks!

Kyouko confronted her husband about it and he said that it was probably because she was about to get her period. She knew he had no idea about girl’s anatomy right then, and didn’t bring it up again.

But in her mind she knew that wasn’t the case. She should’ve had it a week after Izaya’s 10th…

“Oh dear god!” Kyouko shouted. Shirou’s eyes widened at her hand on her stomach.

“…you’re…”

::::

“I’m pregnant, Izaya.”

Even though Izaya was extremely intelligent, he couldn’t for the life of him know what pregnant meant. His mouth formed into a frown as he tried understanding, but to no avail.

“Oh! Sorry…” Kyouko shamelessly smiled, “Izaya, pregnant means that I have a baby in my tummy.”

“Way to put it like I’m 2, mom.” Izaya chuckled, putting his hand on the tough exterior of her stomach, “But how did that happen?”

“It’s just how babies are made.” Kyouko replied, placing her hand onto Izaya’s small one.

“So that’s why you’re getting chubby.”

“Izaya!” Kyouko playfully scolded, and reached to tickle Izaya’s waist. They both giggled, and sat down on the couch.

“I’m six months pregnant. Moms have the baby in their tummy for nine months, so that means only three more to go!”

“But what started the baby’s formation?” Izaya asked, and watched his mom’s lips curl awkwardly.

“Well… you’re too young to understand right now, but now that I’m pregnant, you will have a tiny brother or sister! Isn’t that great?”

Izaya inwardly scoffed. Yep. Just wonderful.

::::

“So I’m thinking about changing schools for you.” Kyouko spoke up at dinner that night. Both Izaya and Shirou looked up surprised, but let her speak. “I just don’t like how public schools are working for you. Your grades are extremely high and-“

“Did they call you?”

Kyouko set the plate down on the table, a small grimace on her face. “Uh-huh.” She answered, sitting down and clapping her hands together. 

Izaya chose to pry further. “What exactly did they say?”

“Nothing really.” Her answer was distant, and he knew she was lying.

“What did they say, mom?”

“…” her head bowed and her grin disappeared. Izaya knew this was going to be bad. He knew that his mom was scared that he would get mad, but he was strong.

“...they...said… you were too smart to be educated any further. That you should be in a special school.”

When they met eyes again, he only shrugged and proceeded to eat his food. The look on his mom’s face was enough to make him stop.

“Is that bad?”

“No… I just thought that-“

“I would get mad and storm off?” he finished, smiling. He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes playfully. “As if. They’re the ones that won’t have Izaya Orihara in their yearbook for ‘smartest kid throughout all of Tokyo.’”

Kyouko let out a breathless laugh, as did Shirou, who only looked at his son with amazement.

The atmosphere smoothed out from tense to letting the air roam freely, and everything was okay again.

::::

Three months later Kyouko went into labor. Izaya’s surprise was sure to bring smiles to his family’s faces, but definitely not his. In fact, he was terrified.

Waking up that morning was sure as hell a doozy. His mom frantically dialing in his father’s cell phone and holding onto the couch for support…his mind was all over the place.

“I’m in labor, Shirou! Dear god, call an ambulance! Yes I have Izaya-no he’s fine! Just get here fast!”

Everything was a blur (and not because he was still half-asleep) as he was transported inside a fast flying vehicle with a doctor holding one of his mom’s hands and his father holding the other.

Minutes flew into hours and Izaya finally saw the doctor come out. His smile was wide, but his hands were tinted pink and red. Izaya knew that blood had to be involved. They were getting a baby out of his mother’s stomach for crying out loud!

Shirou held Izaya’s hand as they went into the room, quiet and also scared.

What Izaya did not expect was to see his mom holding not one-

But  _two_  tiny babies.

“Oh…” he heard his mom breath out, and he found her eyes on him. She gently motioned for him to come closer, and he did, albeit reluctantly.

“Izaya… this is Mairu,” she motioned to one baby, “and Kururi.” She moved her arm for the other. “They are your sisters.”

Izaya didn’t know how to react. So he inwardly screamed and stretched a smile across his lips.

“That’s…great.” He croaked out.

It really wasn’t.

::::

“Hey mom?” Izaya walked into the room, holding Mairu in his arms. He was holding her a bit away, his face contorted into confusion. Kyouko looked up from changing Kururi and stared at her son. “Yes, Izaya?”

Izaya hesitated on what he wanted to say when he saw his mom that morning. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she had bags underneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Mairu and Kururi had been, for the past four days, non-stop crying when they were put to bed, so she had to stay up and lull them to sleep. It did not do well with her patience either.

Izaya spoke quietly, “I was wondering why my eyes are red.”

This surprised Kyouko. Izaya had known ever since he was little that he had inherited his red eyes from his father, and the two little girls Kyouko now held had her dark brown eyes. So why did he bring it up all of the sudden?

“Why do you ask that, Izaya? You know why.” Kyouko spoke gravely, but as calm as she could without hurting her voice. She had been singing to the girls for the past four nights after all.

Izaya held Mairu with one hand while the other scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He chuckled nervously, wondering whether to say it or not.

He chose to say it. “People were asking why I’m a demon.”

If she hadn’t had Kururi or Mairu in the room, Kyouko would’ve shouted and cussed and yelled into her cell phone at the school. But she didn’t. All she did was sigh, pick up her cell phone and dial in the number. This was the final straw. She was getting him out of that school.

“I’m calling the school right now, Izaya. You aren’t going tomorrow. Or the next day either, okay?” Kyouko replied, not looking away from the numbers as she hit the call button. She glanced up, “Can you watch your sisters for just a bit? I’m going to talk to them.”

Izaya nodded, and put Mairu down to fetch Kururi off of the couch. He grabbed both girls and started to head out of the room when his mother’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“And Izaya? Your eyes are beautiful.”

Izaya smiled, and walked both him and his sisters to his room.


	2. Meet the Megane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so OOC it's ridiculous. But hey, isn't that the whole point of this story?  
> ...don't answer that.

Ever since he was little, he knew he was talented.

Sure, everyone had their talents. It could be singing, dancing, writing creative things-

“Orihara Izaya, come to the front.”

The little boy looked up from his paper and hid it with his jacket, making sure that nothing was showing before replying, “Yes sir.”

His…was drawing.

He loved being able to curve his pencil around the paper to create such beautiful lines. It made him grin when the lines were sewn together to form something he had made on his own. Whether it’d be an animal or a person he knew. It didn’t matter to him.

“Now state what you wrote about.”

He also knew that everyone had a fear. A fear of death, or falling, or heights…

“H-hi!” he squeaked his hair moving about in embarrassment.

Students giggled and blew faces at his strange but particularly normal behavior that others had seen before. But this was an elite school with professional talented kids such as himself.

His fear…was being in the front of the class.

“My-my name’s Izaya-“

“No one cares-“

“And I’m here to give off my essay-“

“Go sit down, red-eyes.“

“NEVER MIND THEN! SOMEONE ELSE CAN GO!” he pretty much yelled, and went back to his seat, ignoring the people looking at him.

They didn’t matter to him.

::::

“How would you describe yourself? Are you close to your dad or close to your mom?”

This question irked Izaya. Things that he really couldn’t answer were ones he’d never open his mouth about. For some odd reason, he thought about this one a lot.

When it came down to his conclusion, he found he had the same attitude as his mom. He never found himself crying, and kept to himself a lot about school and home. But in looks… Izaya was the embodiment of his father. He had his eyes; the same color red swimming with emotions, and his crazy brown-black hair color.

So he told the teacher, “Both,” because he really hadn’t a clue. The teacher gave him a 45 on his answer.

He figured out that the school was trash. But if he was giving his honest opinion, he’d pick being at the elite rather than public.

During class time, they would ask a few questions to every student and see if they knew the material. Izaya, of course, answered every one right (except for the one about closeness with parents), even if the kids were staring straight at him with glares and mumbles of ‘weirdo’.

Izaya didn’t have any friends. He never did. He was the type to stand out independently rather than fitting in with others. He felt more comfortable, and that was fine.

Other students would judge him by the way he looked and what type of words he used on certain topics. But he passed the time by drawing their stupid faces and hanging them up for everyone to see. Some were detailed really well, and some were giant heads with stick-figure bodies. This was how it was.

Then a boy popped into his life.  

The kid was just weird; he had glasses that were too big to frame his face right, and he always wore a button up shirt and khaki’s. Izaya wondered just how many of the same outfit the young boy held and how he didn’t get them dirty on the playground. But what really stood out above everything was his way of speaking.

Izaya one day was sitting and eating his sandwich, observing others. His pad of paper and pencil were lying on his lap, untouched until he was done with his food. He didn’t want his art to get greasy. He found that he rather enjoyed looking at other people. As if they were simply another species far from what he was-

That and drawing them was pretty fun too.

“Why are you looking at Walker like that?” a voice spoke up. Izaya turned and found himself face to face with another student.

“Who?” Izaya questioned, tilting his head and wondering if he was imagining things. He had never seen the kid’s face before, much less anytime in school. The boy simply grinned, and pointed to the male Izaya was just watching.

“Him. That’s Walker… with how intense you’re looking it seems you have a crush on him.”

“Mph, no.” Izaya crossed his arms, still holding the sandwich. _‘This is why I don’t have friends. Especially onews like this kid.’_ Izaya thought. A hand was thrust into his vision. He glanced at it and back up to the student who held a small hand on his hip.

“My name is Shinra Kishitani. I’ve been part of this school for several years now. You see, my dad is a doctor and takes care of special crea- I mean people. He sent me here to be just like him, so here I am. I’m in class 3B and…um… oh! I saw you alone, so I want to be your friend! So…what’s your name?” Shinra asked excitedly, moving his hand away and bouncing up and down.

With caution, the brunette replied. “My name is Izaya Orihara. I just moved to this school because the public one said I was too smart for them. My mom said that this was what she thought was best so that’s why I’m here. I’m in class 3A…” he paused, looked at the boy and muttered, “sure I’ll be your friend.”

Shinra stopped his movements and quietly screamed before grabbing Izaya’s hands and lifting him off of the bench. He started spinning him around while laughing and Izaya rolled his eyes.

(This is when Izaya realized that Shinra was super annoying.)

::::

“Hey Izaya-kun, you want to come eat lunch with me today?”

“I eat with you every day. And no. Don’t you have other people to bother?”

“Aw! You’ve known me for two years now! You know you’re my only friend! I can only bother you…” Shinra swallowed and his cheeks went red, “And Celty.”

This perked Izaya’s interest. “Who’s Celty?”

He knew he had made a mistake seconds later.

“Oh Celtyyyyy! She is my one and only true love! I’ve known her ever since I was four and I got to cut her stomach open and she doesn’t age-“

He stopped listening. He kept nodding his head as if he knew what Shinra was talking about and ate his bento in silence.

“-Oh, and she’s also my girlfriend! Isn’t that amazing?!”

Izaya cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you too young to have a girlfriend? I thought you said she didn’t age.” He played along.

“Oh she doesn’t. I know I’m not quite the appropriate age to date her legally but this is private information that only you can know.”

“O…kay…why only me? Does your dad know about this so called ‘secret relationship’?”

“Yes he does. And to answer your first question, it’s because I trust you enough.”

“No. it’s because I’m your only friend.”

“Precisely!”

Man, who knew the human species was so entertaining?

“Anyways, I got my bento from my dad today. He made ootoro…” Shinra took the liberty and sat down opposite of Izaya, opening his bento. He took his chopsticks and grabbed a piece of the dead fish. “Want to try some?”

At first Izaya was hesitant. He had never shared food with someone else before through chopsticks. Though the ootoro looked delightfully tempting-

He carefully took the chopsticks from the other’s hand and chomped down on the ootoro. Shinra shrieked and reached from Izaya’s mouth to grab the chopsticks back when he saw the male’s eyes.

“Err…Izaya-kun? You like ootoro I take it?” Shinra cocked his head and watched as the brunette nodded shortly. He waited until the young boy had ingested the bite to take his chopsticks back.

Izaya went quiet. He shyly looked to Shinra’s bento-

“Oh come on! It’s my lunch, Izaya-kun!”

::::

“So I ended up making my dad a tad upset.”

“How?” Izaya asked. He pulled out his notebook and sat next to the talkative brunette. Shinra let his head sink and Izaya could’ve sworn he saw a sweat drop visibly cling onto the younger’s hair. “I told him that he needed to make more ootoro and he wanted to know why.”

“And?”

“I told him and he got mad. I’m not supposed to share my food with anyone but myself…”

Izaya let out a small ‘oh’ and remembered the ootoro that he had had only a day ago. He felt guilty as the memory kept replaying in his head, but then Shinra spoke up.

“I ended up getting him to make more anyways and I wrapped some up for you.”

Wait…what?

“You got some food for me?” Izaya turned, giving the brown-haired a perplexed expression. Shinra simply shook his head with a smile and handed the wrapped package to Izaya. In an instant Izaya grabbed the package and practically ripped it open. He said a quick thanks and absorbed the meal like a sponge.

Throughout the ordeal, he caught Shinra staring at him. “Wot?” Izaya puffed out, shutting his lips to chew the piece down. Shinra only shook his head and chuckled.

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who has an imaginary girlfriend.”

“Hey! She is not imaginary!”

::::

“Umm…is that me?”

The pencil skipping across the paper stopped in one swift movement, the control transforming to mush. Said control let the utensil fall out of its hand. “No. It’s not you.”

“Then how come I look like the character you’re drawing?”

“Shut up already, Shinra.”

Once again, Izaya had found himself in a tossed situation a year later. Shinra had caught him doodling in his sketchbook and was looking over his shoulder. It was all over now…

“Can you draw more details of me, then? I would love to put that on my wall!” Shinra exclaimed, moving away from Izaya’s figurative bubble. Izaya was confused with the idea of making art for someone else. He was always alone, after all.

“I have to say again that it’s not you? Idiot.” He stopped and added to the air to keep his ears partly hidden, “Sure.”

“Ooh! How about you draw me and Celty? I bet she’d love something like that!”

“Pray tell how I’m supposed to draw her if I don’t know what she looks like.” Izaya pressed twisting his head to give the doctor’s son a glare. Shinra shrugged, and his eyes widened. Izaya had to squint when a picture was practically forced down his throat.

What he saw was incredibly unnatural.

It was a picture taken around Christmas time. He could tell by the giant ornaments hanging behind on countertops and the ceiling. He noticed the three individuals after investigating the background. Shinra was holding onto the back of his father’s back, smiles brightening the tiny space. But soon let his eyes skim over to the much bigger and up close figure.

It…didn’t seem to have a head.

“Um…Shinra…“ Izaya started, his small heart stuttering much like his breathing. “I must be seeing things, but does this Celty of yours not have a head?” He didn’t know if Shinra was playing tricks with him, but if he knew anything, it was that Shinra wouldn’t do something like that.

Izaya looked away from the photo to see the boy’s eyes twinkling. “Of course that’s Celty. She’s a dullahan you silly- _oh._ ” Shinra must’ve caught onto why Izaya’s eyes were glazed over with uncertainty because he suddenly threw his hand across his mouth.

“Oh no… you didn’t know. I didn’t tell you. I should have and I didn’t-“ Izaya knew Shinra was rambling about, so he left him to do it, carefully watching his friend’s facial expressions. The red-eyed male reached over and picked up his abandoned pencil and drew, not looking away from his friend’s terrified face.

::::

“Hey.”

“…”

“Hey, Shinra.”

“…”

“I’m not mad at you or anything-“

“No, but you are creeped out.” Shinra replied, turning his head to the side to hide his shame. Izaya sighed, and pulled something out of his backpack.

“I… made your picture.”

Shinra let his eyes move down to Izaya’s desk, not bothering to move his body. It made Izaya happy to see his friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

In the picture that had taken some time to draw, Shinra was holding onto the neck of the headless Celty. She had exclamation marks popping out of her smoke trails that emanated from her open neck. A smaller version of Shinra had a giant smile with his eyes shut in happiness.

To see at least a smile from the spiky-haired brunette was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok....let me explain my absence. My Wi-Fi has been shut off for over three weeks, which means shortly after the 15th. We got it back for two days, but my computer was not connecting to it AT ALL. I was pissed. I was ready to update both stories. I go into my other story (Technology at Its Finest) and my 4,000 WORD CHAPTER WAS GONE. So I need to write it AGAIN. So for now, I'll put this up. I'm sorry for the wait.


End file.
